For our writing assignment, we were asked to observe a scene on Cagli’s piazza, take notes, write a few paragraphs, and leave ourselves out of the story. Unfortunately, I did not make any images of the scene about which I wrote, so I’ll give you a few of my favorite photos from our time here, instead.
He moved as fast as his short legs could take him, pulling his hand from his mother’s and running to the gelato stand. His curly red hair sticking out in all directions, the boy strained to reach high enough to see into the glass display case. He stands his blue tennis shoes on end.
His mother, in her bright, multi-colored top, stood away from the tables, blowing cigarette smoke away from the groups of people. Her long, tanned, shorts-clad legs crossed as she casually surveyed the scene on the piazza.
She dropped her burned-out cigarette to the cobblestones and strode to a table where another woman and baby waited. She called to the boy, who reluctantly shuffled away from the gelato display to join the women, his feet moving much more slowly, the toes of his shoes dragging on the cobblestones.
Shortly after, the women and children walked slowly away from the gelato stand, one woman pushing a red stroller, the other carrying the baby. They talked animatedly while the boy hung his head in silent lament. No gelato today.